


I'm Ready. But You Don't Need It.

by DefinitelyBroken



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drabble, Heavy Angst, Iker is a dickhead, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyBroken/pseuds/DefinitelyBroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm ready for so much.<br/>But you don't need it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Ready. But You Don't Need It.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that hit me. Sergio's 1st-person.

_I’m ready_ to kneel before you, kissing your feet.

But you don’t need it.

 _I’m ready_ to compose a poem in one thousand lines for you, telling about my love, and to translate it into one thousand languages.

But you don’t need it.

 _I’m ready_ to paint your body with hieroglyphs of my love.

But you don’t want it.

 _I’m ready_ to bring you a star from the sky, if it’s possible.

But why try?

 _I’m ready_ to dispute physical laws and to soar so I’d put cloud pieces together, picturing your face.

But you don’t care.

Sometimes I think I’m becoming a girl, like those from old chick lit novels about divorced tipplers. A damsel who sits on the window sill all the time, staring at the street and waiting for a prince.

I’m waiting, too, you know.

Oh yes, you don’t need it. You need nothing now. You have Sara and your future baby who somehow succeeded in driving me out from your life, and even more.

Guess what, folks; this lump of life hasn’t been born, and you’ve already thrown out people you _don’t need._

I thought I meant something to you. I do remember all _Love you_ and _Come on, sweetheart, forget about Sara; I have only you._ Fucking liar. You’re like a nepenthes, dazzling with your beauty, your grace; and then you devour the soul, leaving nothing but emptiness which can’t be filled.

God damn it, I remember your eyes when Sara told you about her pregnancy. You had never been so happy, so spirited and pleased. And I, god damn it, understood you had never felt this way with me.

Then why were you torturing me and yourself? Why were you wasting those months, weeks, days, hours near me, when you could be building your little nest? Maybe you were bored?

Maybe you had lost a bet?

Can’t surprise me now.

It hurts when I feel myself changing. I’m disgusted by my reflection in the mirror—and by your smiling face.

The night that has ended everything I remember in detail, as though it was yesterday or a couple of hours ago.

 

You came to me all confident. Unyielding in your decisions, not broken by any rough goings. You came to me, and I was scared.

My intuition worked well probably.

I wasn’t able to say a word to you; I couldn’t even stand up to say hello. But you did walk to me and I heard one sentence, feeling your finger on my cheek.

_We need to talk._

And I heard in those four words more than in a speech you started giving. I had always dreaded them.

But I guess I had actually dreaded that I would see my life crumble in one moment.

The second I heard _It’s over_ I wanted to laugh, of course. Really, how can one react to something like this?

The second I heard _It’s over_ I thought I was seeing a kaleidoscope of memories. Sensations. Words.

I wanted to scream, then.

Or to punch you.

For making love you and putting down the drain. For what I am now. For having to convince myself I love Pilar instead of spending time with you.

Do you want to know something? I fucking hate you.

A month will pass, a year, and I will give you a _friendly_ smile, I’ll call you _a friend._ Horrible melancholy won’t bother me at nights.

_I will learn to live without you._

But you won't care because you won't need it.

~o~o~o~

While I was walking away, he was laughing with no regret.

He sat next to me on the plane the following day and started chatting as if we were friends and we had never been something _more._

He managed.

Or did he not care that much?

I had thought I could bring the world to him.

But a simple test showed he doesn’t need it.


End file.
